Yes, I've managed to accrue my 15 minutes of fame by sharing the cover of the local phone directory with one of our lovely rescued koalas.
The lovely people at Local Directories were given thousands of koala photos to choose from and, for some reason, they decided on one featuring yours truly!
I will be signing copies of the directory in your local Westfield soon! (Not).
Actually, it's great publicity for the Koala Hospita1, so we're all thrilled. It's just lucky I'm not on the run from the law or else my cover would really be blown now.
Showing posts with label Hamlyn Bev. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hamlyn Bev. Show all posts
Thursday, 3 April 2008
Thursday, 28 February 2008
Joeys behaving badly
It's not easy being the only boy koala occupying a single tree with three girls. Just ask One Mile Beach Noah.
As a relative newcomer to yard 6, Noah has made his home in one of the lower forks of the yard's tree. The spot has become a favourite for him; you often see him flopped in the crook of its branches, arms and legs dangling like a happy sloth.
Trouble is, this fork is a bit of major thoroughfare, especially when new leaf has arrived. Today, Helene was distributing leaf into the several pots strewn around the gunyah in yard 6. Oxley Holly (I can tell it's her by her nose) decided she was heading down for a gander at the smorgasboard.
But Noah was having none of it.
Noah wouldn't budge so Holly shimmied down the main trunk and wedged herself in front of Noah (where they gave each other a bit of a sniff). Then, when Holly didn't vamoose her caboose, he gave her a warning nibble on the shoulder.
Noah giving Holly a warning chomp
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Holly eeped a little and then clipped Noah over the ear before taking off up the tree again.
It was time for Holly's Plan B.
Her next tactic was to reverse down the tree...onto Noah's head. She sat there on Noah's noggin for a bit, before he gave Holly her final marching orders.
Holly sitting on Noah
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Holly gave up and took off...and Noah resumed the position in *his* treefork.
One Mile Beach Noah back in the zone without any pesky chicks around
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Here's some of the action caught on KoalaKam:
Interestingly, it was almost exactly a year ago that I blogged on some other joeys behaving badly in Joeyz in da hood.
In other news, Hamlyn Bev is jumped ship from the round yard in yard 10 into yard 10 proper. She is currently, unhelpfully, up a pine tree.
Nowendoc Carl is looking a million bucks after his operation to remove the inflammed tissue from his eyes. The right is still cloudy, but the left is much clearer. He looks much better just being out in the yards and "upstairs" (on the top part of the gunyah), rather than looking lacklustre on the bottom rung as he did inside. His fur, which was a dun-brown colour on admission looks to me like it's got some healthier grey flecks coming through, or perhaps that's just from seeing him in the sun for the first time. He's much brighter and grabbier too - he managed to wangle the syringe off me at one point (to the amusement of the watching visitors) and attempted to feed himself with it to no avail before submitting to my giving it another go!
Poor Emerald Matilda, the blind koala from last week, was euthanased. Another blind koala, Banksia Ted, has come in to be assessed. There is also a Lighthouse Di who is just the cutest looking thing, who might be entering the Sydney uni trials as she is a wet bottom.
Click here to see more photos of this week's koala patients recovering at the Koala Hospital, Port Macquarie.
As a relative newcomer to yard 6, Noah has made his home in one of the lower forks of the yard's tree. The spot has become a favourite for him; you often see him flopped in the crook of its branches, arms and legs dangling like a happy sloth.
Trouble is, this fork is a bit of major thoroughfare, especially when new leaf has arrived. Today, Helene was distributing leaf into the several pots strewn around the gunyah in yard 6. Oxley Holly (I can tell it's her by her nose) decided she was heading down for a gander at the smorgasboard.
But Noah was having none of it.
Noah wouldn't budge so Holly shimmied down the main trunk and wedged herself in front of Noah (where they gave each other a bit of a sniff). Then, when Holly didn't vamoose her caboose, he gave her a warning nibble on the shoulder.
Noah giving Holly a warning chomp
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Holly eeped a little and then clipped Noah over the ear before taking off up the tree again.
It was time for Holly's Plan B.
Her next tactic was to reverse down the tree...onto Noah's head. She sat there on Noah's noggin for a bit, before he gave Holly her final marching orders.
Holly sitting on Noah
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Holly gave up and took off...and Noah resumed the position in *his* treefork.
One Mile Beach Noah back in the zone without any pesky chicks around
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Here's some of the action caught on KoalaKam:
Interestingly, it was almost exactly a year ago that I blogged on some other joeys behaving badly in Joeyz in da hood.
In other news, Hamlyn Bev is jumped ship from the round yard in yard 10 into yard 10 proper. She is currently, unhelpfully, up a pine tree.
Nowendoc Carl is looking a million bucks after his operation to remove the inflammed tissue from his eyes. The right is still cloudy, but the left is much clearer. He looks much better just being out in the yards and "upstairs" (on the top part of the gunyah), rather than looking lacklustre on the bottom rung as he did inside. His fur, which was a dun-brown colour on admission looks to me like it's got some healthier grey flecks coming through, or perhaps that's just from seeing him in the sun for the first time. He's much brighter and grabbier too - he managed to wangle the syringe off me at one point (to the amusement of the watching visitors) and attempted to feed himself with it to no avail before submitting to my giving it another go!
Poor Emerald Matilda, the blind koala from last week, was euthanased. Another blind koala, Banksia Ted, has come in to be assessed. There is also a Lighthouse Di who is just the cutest looking thing, who might be entering the Sydney uni trials as she is a wet bottom.
Click here to see more photos of this week's koala patients recovering at the Koala Hospital, Port Macquarie.
Thursday, 10 January 2008
Hamlyn Bev returns to the fold
Alas, it can pay not to keep your hopes up regarding certain koalas. Sometimes a koala whose unit you've cleaned one week might take a turn for the worse and not be there at your next shift. I had been especially concerned about Hamlyn Bev and Bangalay Millie, both wet bottoms who’d been rescued during my shift on Thursday - Hamlyn Bev by Amanda and myself. Both were scheduled for ultrasounds at the vet and their outcome was uncertain until that examination.
So I’m thrilled to see both have been accommodated in units in the ICU. Just as I arrive, I spy Jim entering Bev’s unit with a bundle of towels and a scissors-and-string basket.
"Hold it right there, cowboy," I warn him. "That there is *my* koala. I bagged her fair n' square and no ornery varmint is gonna wrangle her but me.”
Jim looks suitably afraid and asks if there are any other koalas he needs to steer clear of, or if he should simply leave town on the next mail-coach.
Hamlyn Bev
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Bev’s ultrasound showed up that her bladder was clear but she has a cyst beside her ovaries. Not sure whether that’s something they will try to remove or not. She also has a weepy right eye from conjunctivitis.
Bev is a different girl to the one I saw on Thursday. Today she is spritely and alert, looking so pointedly at me that I worry for a moment that she might be about to spring off the gunyah and onto me the moment my back is turned. Of course, Bev was hand-raised in the hospital when she came to us as an orphan, so she is more used to human contact that the wilder koalas we get in the place. She’s got none of the “wild” koala reticence.
I go off in search of her food. She takes to it with gusto, sucking on the syringe like it’s a bottle. I try to position it at the side of her mouth but she won’t have it, she wants it front and centre like a teat. She suctions onto it and slurps it back and I imagine she’s recalling her days back in homecare with her foster mum, Judy. Apparently, Judy has been popping in to check on her former charge, ensuring she has her favourite leaf on hand.
Each time I place the syringe in her mouth, she reaches towards me and tries to grab my arm. It seems easier to let her, since she’s just wants something to hang on to and her claws aren’t particularly sharp. But she grapples for the syringe and they start to dig in; so I let go, and find myself in the situation I was in with Warrego Martin the other day – trying to wrestle the syringe out of the surprisingly nimble claws of a hungry koala.
Jim is next door, listening to the one-way conversation I’m having with Bev:
“Let go.”
“Ow, that hurts.”
“Drop it…”
“Give me back that syringe.”
“Not my arm, take the branch, the branch, not ME!”
He comments that he thinks I must have let him off lightly, if that’s the kind of carry-on Bev’s giving me. (Of course, I’m loving every minute of it, really!).
Bangalay Millie
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Just then, Jim yells “hey!”. Apparently Bangalay Millie has just tried to jump from her gunyah onto the window ledge. That’s a good sign really. Her wet bottom seems much more advanced than Bev’s (who’s been rated a 1 on the wet bottom scale), so the fact that Millie’s still full of beans is usually a good sign.
I look in on Newport Bridge Gloria, one of the sweet little koalas from the drug trials earlier this year. She’s much quieter then these other two. Joy commented that it’s causing her pain to pass urine, which is not good. Still, we keep up her treatment and hope for the best.
Granite Murray has become a “jumper” apparently. He’s fed up with being indoors and wants out. So he’s taking it out on the vollies. He’s another less-wild (“tame” is a dirty word around here) koala, having been a patient here a few times before. So he knows the drill. But he’s over it and wants the great outdoors.
He probably thinks he’s missing out on all the fun Roto Randy’s been having.
Click here to view more of today's koala hospital snaps.
So I’m thrilled to see both have been accommodated in units in the ICU. Just as I arrive, I spy Jim entering Bev’s unit with a bundle of towels and a scissors-and-string basket.
"Hold it right there, cowboy," I warn him. "That there is *my* koala. I bagged her fair n' square and no ornery varmint is gonna wrangle her but me.”
Jim looks suitably afraid and asks if there are any other koalas he needs to steer clear of, or if he should simply leave town on the next mail-coach.
Hamlyn Bev
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Bev’s ultrasound showed up that her bladder was clear but she has a cyst beside her ovaries. Not sure whether that’s something they will try to remove or not. She also has a weepy right eye from conjunctivitis.
Bev is a different girl to the one I saw on Thursday. Today she is spritely and alert, looking so pointedly at me that I worry for a moment that she might be about to spring off the gunyah and onto me the moment my back is turned. Of course, Bev was hand-raised in the hospital when she came to us as an orphan, so she is more used to human contact that the wilder koalas we get in the place. She’s got none of the “wild” koala reticence.
I go off in search of her food. She takes to it with gusto, sucking on the syringe like it’s a bottle. I try to position it at the side of her mouth but she won’t have it, she wants it front and centre like a teat. She suctions onto it and slurps it back and I imagine she’s recalling her days back in homecare with her foster mum, Judy. Apparently, Judy has been popping in to check on her former charge, ensuring she has her favourite leaf on hand.
Each time I place the syringe in her mouth, she reaches towards me and tries to grab my arm. It seems easier to let her, since she’s just wants something to hang on to and her claws aren’t particularly sharp. But she grapples for the syringe and they start to dig in; so I let go, and find myself in the situation I was in with Warrego Martin the other day – trying to wrestle the syringe out of the surprisingly nimble claws of a hungry koala.
Jim is next door, listening to the one-way conversation I’m having with Bev:
“Let go.”
“Ow, that hurts.”
“Drop it…”
“Give me back that syringe.”
“Not my arm, take the branch, the branch, not ME!”
He comments that he thinks I must have let him off lightly, if that’s the kind of carry-on Bev’s giving me. (Of course, I’m loving every minute of it, really!).
Bangalay Millie
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Just then, Jim yells “hey!”. Apparently Bangalay Millie has just tried to jump from her gunyah onto the window ledge. That’s a good sign really. Her wet bottom seems much more advanced than Bev’s (who’s been rated a 1 on the wet bottom scale), so the fact that Millie’s still full of beans is usually a good sign.
I look in on Newport Bridge Gloria, one of the sweet little koalas from the drug trials earlier this year. She’s much quieter then these other two. Joy commented that it’s causing her pain to pass urine, which is not good. Still, we keep up her treatment and hope for the best.
Granite Murray has become a “jumper” apparently. He’s fed up with being indoors and wants out. So he’s taking it out on the vollies. He’s another less-wild (“tame” is a dirty word around here) koala, having been a patient here a few times before. So he knows the drill. But he’s over it and wants the great outdoors.
He probably thinks he’s missing out on all the fun Roto Randy’s been having.
Click here to view more of today's koala hospital snaps.
Wednesday, 9 January 2008
Ocean Joseph and Hamlyn Bev
Well, today had the makings of a regular Thursday, after the yuletide madness of Christmas and Boxing Day.
I got assigned Kempsey Carolina and Ocean Joseph today. Both get a feed so I headed off to visit my friend Kempsey, who quickly drew a crowd as she slurped up her formula.
The leaf was already cut and laid out so I made short shrift of her yard, decking it out with plenty of Swamp Mahogany and Tallowwood.
I've only once before cleaned Ocean Joseph's yard before and he wasn't terribly interested in my feeding him. He's lying lengthwise on the gunyah, taking the pressure off the nasty bottom wounds he incurred in his second car accident in the space of months. Joyce looked after him in home care for a little while before he took up residence in the recently refurbished yard 8 (Perks Chris's former yard).
Ocean Joseph
From koalawrangler's gallery.
He's one of those koalas that doesn't seek out the food pot--unlike Kempsey who licks at the air between mouthfuls. Joseph just lays there placidly while I gently squeeze the syringe between his lips. When he gets a taste of the formula, he decides he quite likes it, but he doesn't offer too much encouragement. He had big brown eyes and a calm expression common to the big males.
Joy, the hospital supervisor on today's shift, pops in to smear cream on his behind -- it can't be comfortable to sit on. His gunyah is covered in towels to soften his seat and to absorb any leakage from the wound.
Joseph nibbles at a bit of the new leaf before deciding it's all too much and decides to settle down for a snooze.
In the joey yard next door, Settlers Inn Casey is awake and having a bit of a scratch. According to the day-room whiteboard, she's been given a squirt of tick repellent of the exactly the same variety we give our dog. Because she seldom comes down, we don't get an opportunity to check her over for ticks, and it's the young koalas that can get anaemic if they get too many on them.
Casey is a wild child. She was an abandoned joey that had been fending for herself fairly well out in the bush, but was brought in to the hospital when she was sighted. We usually like to have joeys' weight up around 3.5kg before they are released, so she's staying with us to grow and fatten up. I remember when she first came in; she was like a child raised by wolves -- so small and cute-looking, yet pulling away and scratching like a banshee. "I'm big and tough, and can take care of myself!", she seemed to be saying.
Right now, she's looking down on me like I'm a small grub of no consequence. Speaking of grubs, just then three or four kookaburras camped out across several trees start howling at once. One has a large lizard in its mouth and the others aren't happy about it. It's so loud we can barely speak over the din. Tricia in yard 9 starts mock-laughing out loud, joining in.
Everyone's finishing up their yards when we get a call from Hazel, who runs the hospital kiosk. There's a suspected wet bottom koala in the tree outside her house. She needs some vollies to come over with rescue poles to get the koala down.
She lives in a leafy, meandering part of Port Macquarie. There are numerous koala crossing signs and all the streets we pass conjure up names of previous koala patients that hail from this area: Nulla Sam, Hamlyn Jack, Chisholm Dave, Cattlebrook John...
There are a host of folk waiting our arrival out in the street. Amanda and I get to work erecting our poles, while Hazel and another chap get the bags at the ready. The koala is a small one with a tag in her right ear, so we know she's a female and a former hospital patient. Amanda and I move in with our poles; it's a bit like we're jointly wielding a pair of giant chopsticks to pluck out a dumpling. Except that we don't ever touch her with the poles; the cloth hanging from them is used to entice her down the tree. She's currently sleeping so we have to wave a cloth in her face to wake her. It's a dream rescue -- she makes her way down the tree with our guidance and straight into the bag.
I hold her in the bag on my lap as we head back to the hospital. She hardly weighs anything at all.
Back at the hospital, Joy herself has gone out on a rescue so Amanda and I do our best to fill in the new koala's admission paperwork. I check her ear -- 967, no wait, 496...I was reading it upside down. D'oh. It's hard to wiggle the tag around on the ear of a live wild animal in a bag. Really it is.
We look her up in the book: it's Hamlyn Bev, an abandoned joey who was admitted to the hospital in May 2006 weighing only 1kg. She was home-cared then transferred to the hospital to grow before she was released in September last year.
I weigh the bag on the scales: 5.7kg, but after subtracting the weight of the bag, that makes her only 4.8kg, not big. Amanda finds a green form and we start completing it with details about her observable symptoms in preparation from Joy to examine her on her return. Amanda mixes up some hydrating liquid and we attempt to feed her. She's also got a few ticks on her that we remove.
Just then, Joy gets back with another koala she's rescued, not a previous admission, but with a very advanced wet bottom. We call her Bangalay Millie. She's going off to the vets for an ultrasound this afternoon which will tell us what's what.
Joy has a look at Bev and we all agree that Amanda and I should give up any fantasy we had to become vets. We'd both thought her tongue was a little yellow; Joy said it was quite normal. However, her right eye was slighly cloudy. Joy also notes that she's got a swollen gland under her arm and a very distended belly, the kind you see in malnourished children, which is clearly giving her some discomfort. Her fur condition iss good but her musculature was slack and she felt scrawny to touch. We watch her walk around the treatment room to see how she carries herself. She doesn't appear to have any mobility issues, other than being quite lethargic.
Poor little sausage! She's off to the vet for an ultrasound too. Fingers crossed.
Click here to view more of today's koala hospital snaps.
I got assigned Kempsey Carolina and Ocean Joseph today. Both get a feed so I headed off to visit my friend Kempsey, who quickly drew a crowd as she slurped up her formula.
The leaf was already cut and laid out so I made short shrift of her yard, decking it out with plenty of Swamp Mahogany and Tallowwood.
I've only once before cleaned Ocean Joseph's yard before and he wasn't terribly interested in my feeding him. He's lying lengthwise on the gunyah, taking the pressure off the nasty bottom wounds he incurred in his second car accident in the space of months. Joyce looked after him in home care for a little while before he took up residence in the recently refurbished yard 8 (Perks Chris's former yard).
Ocean Joseph
From koalawrangler's gallery.
He's one of those koalas that doesn't seek out the food pot--unlike Kempsey who licks at the air between mouthfuls. Joseph just lays there placidly while I gently squeeze the syringe between his lips. When he gets a taste of the formula, he decides he quite likes it, but he doesn't offer too much encouragement. He had big brown eyes and a calm expression common to the big males.
Joy, the hospital supervisor on today's shift, pops in to smear cream on his behind -- it can't be comfortable to sit on. His gunyah is covered in towels to soften his seat and to absorb any leakage from the wound.
Joseph nibbles at a bit of the new leaf before deciding it's all too much and decides to settle down for a snooze.
In the joey yard next door, Settlers Inn Casey is awake and having a bit of a scratch. According to the day-room whiteboard, she's been given a squirt of tick repellent of the exactly the same variety we give our dog. Because she seldom comes down, we don't get an opportunity to check her over for ticks, and it's the young koalas that can get anaemic if they get too many on them.
Casey is a wild child. She was an abandoned joey that had been fending for herself fairly well out in the bush, but was brought in to the hospital when she was sighted. We usually like to have joeys' weight up around 3.5kg before they are released, so she's staying with us to grow and fatten up. I remember when she first came in; she was like a child raised by wolves -- so small and cute-looking, yet pulling away and scratching like a banshee. "I'm big and tough, and can take care of myself!", she seemed to be saying.
Right now, she's looking down on me like I'm a small grub of no consequence. Speaking of grubs, just then three or four kookaburras camped out across several trees start howling at once. One has a large lizard in its mouth and the others aren't happy about it. It's so loud we can barely speak over the din. Tricia in yard 9 starts mock-laughing out loud, joining in.
Everyone's finishing up their yards when we get a call from Hazel, who runs the hospital kiosk. There's a suspected wet bottom koala in the tree outside her house. She needs some vollies to come over with rescue poles to get the koala down.
She lives in a leafy, meandering part of Port Macquarie. There are numerous koala crossing signs and all the streets we pass conjure up names of previous koala patients that hail from this area: Nulla Sam, Hamlyn Jack, Chisholm Dave, Cattlebrook John...
There are a host of folk waiting our arrival out in the street. Amanda and I get to work erecting our poles, while Hazel and another chap get the bags at the ready. The koala is a small one with a tag in her right ear, so we know she's a female and a former hospital patient. Amanda and I move in with our poles; it's a bit like we're jointly wielding a pair of giant chopsticks to pluck out a dumpling. Except that we don't ever touch her with the poles; the cloth hanging from them is used to entice her down the tree. She's currently sleeping so we have to wave a cloth in her face to wake her. It's a dream rescue -- she makes her way down the tree with our guidance and straight into the bag.
I hold her in the bag on my lap as we head back to the hospital. She hardly weighs anything at all.
Back at the hospital, Joy herself has gone out on a rescue so Amanda and I do our best to fill in the new koala's admission paperwork. I check her ear -- 967, no wait, 496...I was reading it upside down. D'oh. It's hard to wiggle the tag around on the ear of a live wild animal in a bag. Really it is.
We look her up in the book: it's Hamlyn Bev, an abandoned joey who was admitted to the hospital in May 2006 weighing only 1kg. She was home-cared then transferred to the hospital to grow before she was released in September last year.
I weigh the bag on the scales: 5.7kg, but after subtracting the weight of the bag, that makes her only 4.8kg, not big. Amanda finds a green form and we start completing it with details about her observable symptoms in preparation from Joy to examine her on her return. Amanda mixes up some hydrating liquid and we attempt to feed her. She's also got a few ticks on her that we remove.
 Hamlyn Bev From koalawrangler's gallery. |  Hamlyn Bev From koalawrangler's gallery. |
Just then, Joy gets back with another koala she's rescued, not a previous admission, but with a very advanced wet bottom. We call her Bangalay Millie. She's going off to the vets for an ultrasound this afternoon which will tell us what's what.
Joy has a look at Bev and we all agree that Amanda and I should give up any fantasy we had to become vets. We'd both thought her tongue was a little yellow; Joy said it was quite normal. However, her right eye was slighly cloudy. Joy also notes that she's got a swollen gland under her arm and a very distended belly, the kind you see in malnourished children, which is clearly giving her some discomfort. Her fur condition iss good but her musculature was slack and she felt scrawny to touch. We watch her walk around the treatment room to see how she carries herself. She doesn't appear to have any mobility issues, other than being quite lethargic.
Poor little sausage! She's off to the vet for an ultrasound too. Fingers crossed.
Click here to view more of today's koala hospital snaps.
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